Angel
by Profound Yaoi
Summary: A short story showing Draco falling in love with his son.  Warning: M for incest and homosexual encounters. No lemon.  Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter


Draco marvelled at the little miracle in his arms. He was so tiny! So perfect. He already loved Scorpius with all his heart and soul.

He wiped the tears from his face on his shoulder, refusing to put the new-born down. With his wife taken from him in child-birth, Scorpius was all he had.

The angelic little creature blinked his big, blue eyes as he gazed up at his father. His little head was covered with soft, platinum hair. He was definitely a Malfoy.

*x*

Scorpius' first birthday was a small affair. He wouldn't remember it, so Draco didn't see the point in making a fuss.

His parents came over for dinner; each doting on their grandson.

When Lucius and Narcissa left, Draco tucked Scorpius in, watching him sleep for an hour, before he needed his own rest.

He slept beside the cot, in an armchair.

Soon, he moved Scorpius to his room; closer and safer than the nursery.

*x*

"Daddy," little Scorpius tugged at Draco's sleeve. "When can I have my own room?" Draco's heart clenched at the innocent little face. Those ice-blue eyes so curious and loving. Such an angel.

"Whenever you like, little one." Those words hurt to say. But he wouldn't deny Scorpius anything. Ever.

The boy grinned up at his father, his pearly-white teeth shining in the firelight. His two front teeth were missing. He looked adorable.

"Can I choose one tomorrow?" he climbed into Draco's lap, excitedly. "And can I choose the colour?" Draco chuckled.

"Of course, Scorpion. Whatever you like."

He chose the room right next to Draco's.

*x*

"Father, I'm too old for this! When can I have my own broom?" Scorpius' tenth birthday had just passed. The party had been large and expensive. Everyone had been invited. Even the Potters and Weasleys.

"Your own broom, eh?" He raised an eyebrow in amusement. He knew his son was perfectly capable of flying on his own. He just liked having him close; safe.

"Father! You know as well as I that I can fly without help!" He crossed his arms and glared at Draco. Draco chuckled.

"Very well. I'll take you to Diagon Alley tomorrow," he ruffled Scorpius' hair, grinning when the boy scowled and smoothed it back.

"Thank you," was the curt reply. His angel hated having his hair messed.

*x*

"And Slytherin wins the match!" One hundred and forty points to seventy! Another spectacular catch by Scorpius Malfoy!" The commentator shouted gleefully as Scorpius did a victory lap of the pitch.

Draco cheered with the rest of Slytherin, his heart swelling with pride as he watched as his son was carried from the pitch on his team-mates' shoulders.

He winked at his boy when he looked back at Draco, full of pride. At Draco's acknowledgement, a goofy grin spread across the thirteen-year-old's face.

*x*

"Scorpius Lucius Malfoy! You little brat! Get back here!" Draco snickered to himself as he dodged his son running from an angry young Potter. Harry's daughter to be specific. _What was her name again? Lilith? Lilian?_ He shrugged, chuckling as the girl ran after his son, surprised hexes weren't flying. She was very much like both her parents…

He wondered what his son had done now.

Scorpius was seventeen and fond of the little hell-cat of Potter's. He didn't blame him. She could be sweet as pie. Sometimes.

Later, when Lily was home, Draco decided to ask about that day's events. Leaning against the bathroom door, he watched his son prepare for bed.

"Son, what did I walk in on today? As amusing as it was to watch you get yourself bat-bogeyed into the next week, I should probably know if your life will be in danger next time it happens." He smirked at the glare he received as Scorpius brushed his teeth.

He received his answer only when Scorpius was completely finished.

"I put a few… fresh potions ingredients in her bag. I was only sharing!" He smirked at his father's playfully-disbelieving look. "Honest!"

Draco chuckled. His son was as devilishly handsome as he had been at that age. And as much of a prat. And a Daddy's boy. He rolled his eyes and sauntered out into the sitting room.

"Father," Scorpius had followed. "Why have you never re-married?"

Well. That was unexpected. And straight to the point.

And not quite what he was comfortable discussing without a few healthy shots of Ogden's Finest.

It was after his third shot that he found he was comfortable enough to share with his son. He hoped his answer wouldn't change anything between them… Maybe he should offer the boy a few fingers of whiskey?

Scorpius just looked amused at his father's dramatics. "So?" He sat on his favourite spot on the floor. Right in front of Draco, between his legs.

The elder Malfoy gazed lovingly at his son, taking note of his soft, beautiful features. He was a lot like Draco was at that age. Except that Scorpius didn't need to hide behind a cold façade. No, his boy was free from that.

"You see," he began, resting his elbows on the armrests and clasping his hands over his abdomen, "I'm… not exactly interested in finding another woman." There, that should be enough –

"Why?" _Inquisitive little brat._

"Because… I have you. You're the only one I need," he grinned, messing Scorpius' hair in the way he knew his son hated.

"But don't you get lonely?" The boy scooted closer and rested his head on Draco's lap. His hair shone golden in the firelight, his skin glowed warmly. His big, blue eyes gazed up so lovingly.

"No, you're all I need, little one." He stroked his son's hair, gently, caressing his cheek on the way down. He loved the feeling of the silky hair running through his fingers. The soft skin of his son's cheek against his palm…

_ Shit._

*x*

After that night, Draco avoided his son when he didn't absolutely need to be in his presence.

He loved his son too much for this!

And yet… perhaps that was the problem?

He loved his son too much.

Xx

Scorpius couldn't understand his father's sudden distance.

One week had passed in which Draco avoided Scorpius as much as possible. It was confusing and frustrating for the young Malfoy. He didn't know what to do! He loved his father and wanted him back!

And he would have him back.

He always got what he wanted.

Xx

Draco had locked himself in the study. This was the one place Scorpius never entered.

As a single parent, Draco needed somewhere for himself. He's made sure his son knew his boundaries and so he was safe. For now.

For the whole week, Draco locked himself away, hoping his son wouldn't start a late rebellion and choose to defy his wishes at such a time.

_What am I going to do? _He hid his face in his hands, wishing he could un-feel. He didn't want this! It was beyond disgusting. Beyond wrong! _But_, said a cold little voice, _you're a Malfoy. Since when have 'wrong' and 'right' meant anything to you? You can have anything you want. Any_one_. There was a time when you'd have taken it. What's so different this time?_

He shook his head, refusing to listen. Even if it was _true_, it wasn't _right_. He could never just take his son like that. He _loved_ him. He'd never betray his trust like that!

Frustrated, he threw a pot of ink across the room, splattering deep green ink all over his cream wall.

_Sonofabitch._

A House Elf appeared, cleaned the mess and disappeared again, seemingly indifferent to his master's mood.

*x*

Another two days passed with Draco locked in his study.

Scorpius was pissed. He wanted attention and he wanted it _now._ He didn't care that it was childish and that he should be above such thoughts. He wanted his father and he would _get_ him.

He marched up to his father's office, measured up the wards on the door – a silencing charm and basic locking spell – and disarmed them. He almost rolled his eyes at how trusting his father was.

Bursting into the room, Scorpius demanded his father's attention. _Or else._

As he stood directly before his father in his reading armchair, Scorpius took in the dishevelled appearance. Draco looked positively _ill_.

He had deep bags under his eyes, his hair looked greasy and messy; he was wearing a grubby nightgown over grubby pyjamas, and looked like he hadn't shaved in a few days – if not all week. And he smelled.

"Good God, man! What _is _the matter?" Scorpius demanded quite bluntly. "How long has it been since you've slept? Since you've _bathed_?" Wrinkling his nose at the smell, he cast a quick cleansing charm, fixing the robes and making the odour bearable.

Draco just blinked up at his son as though he was too sleep-deprived to really process what was going on.

Sighing, Scorpius hefted his father up and took him to the nearest bathroom.

*x*

Draco let his son half-carry, half-drag him to the closest bathroom.

He'd decided that he was filthy in mind and soul, and so he should be in body.

He was a terrible person and didn't deserve to be clean and beautiful. He wanted to touch his _son_, for fuck's sake! What kind of person was he? He sobbed, uncaring of his depleting dignity.

Paying no mind to his son as he readied a bath and started undressing him – rather roughly, he might add – he refused to acknowledge the help he was receiving. He refused to admit that maybe he _liked_ his son undressing him…

At that thought, he suddenly regained a sense of propriety (for he refused to call it anything else) and pushed Scorpius away.

"Father? Finally! What on earth is wrong with you? You're _filthy!_ And you look as though you haven't slept all week!" The sound of confused concern in his son's voice made Draco blink and shudder. _What kind of father am I? I've left my son alone. I've hurt him. _Sighing, he pulled Scorpius in for a hug.

God, he loved this boy.

*x*

Scorpius was a little surprised at his father's sudden change in attitude. He hugged back just as fiercely, though. God knew, he loved his father so much. Maybe too much.

Pulling away, he grinned, before pushing Draco into the tub, pyjamas and all.

"I'm sorry, Father. I love you, but… you smell." He laughed as Draco spluttered and splashed, indignantly trying to gain some kind of balance. Scorpius stood beside the tub with a towel, ready for his father to exit.

Chuckling, he helped his playfully-scowling father out of the tub, wrapping him in the fluffy towel.

He pulled away, holding Draco by the shoulders, looking into his eyes, trying to get a glimpse of his thoughts. He wouldn't use Legilimens, as tempting as it was.

"Father. Tell me what's wrong. I want to know."

Before either of them knew what was happening, Draco leant in… and kissed Scorpius.

It was short and chaste and sweet. But it conveyed everything Draco couldn't – wouldn't – say.

For the life of him, Scorpius couldn't move. He couldn't speak! He just stood there, blinking stupidly at his father. His father who'd kissed him.

Neither of them could move. They didn't know what to say. Didn't know what to do. So they just stood and stared.

They were so close. Only inches separated them. Neither bothered to change the distance.

Until a House Elf interrupted.

"Masters, dinner is served," and it popped out again, not noticing (or ignoring) the tension in the air.

"God, I'm hungry!" Scorpius declared a little _too_ cheerfully. He grinned, pushing his father out the door and followed him to the dining room; the kiss pushed to the side. It would be dealt with later.

*x*

All through the meal, the Malfoy men avoided eye-contact and topics that weren't the weather, Hogwarts or the Ministry gossip column in the _Prophet._

Until dessert, anyway.

Apparently, Scorpius couldn't help but burst out, "Father! We need to talk about this!"

Draco flinched. He wasn't ready to face this. He didn't think he'd ever be ready to accept his feelings towards his son.

"To what are you referring, Scorpius?" He asked in as innocent a voice that Draco Malfoy could pull off.

"You know what I mean. You kissed me!"

"Yes. You're my son. I've kissed you many times." He tried to keep his voice as nonchalant as possible. Thankfully, his own father had been a master at this, and had passed the skills to his son.

"Dad!" Ok, so Scorpius could see through everything. At least he'd raised him to be perceptive and difficult to deceive… _shit._

"Yes?" he gave one last, half-hearted attempt.

"Why did you kiss me?" his son sounded almost… desperate. His eyes looked almost… pleading. _But why? For what?_ He had to be careful.

"Because I love you." There. Nice and vague without lying completely. Even if it wasn't the _whole_ truth. Scorpius looked up and glared.

"I know you love me," he whispered. "But you've never kissed me like that." He never broke eye contact.

Well… _fuck._ If that wasn't the most heart-wrenching statement. Draco could see the desperation in his son's eyes. He could practically hear the hope in the seemingly-factual statement.

_Scorpius wanted him to do it again._

So he did.

Draco stood and sauntered to his son. He crouched beside the elegant chair and gently lay his hand upon Scorpius'.

A moment later, his lips were brushing against his son's; gentle pressure letting him back out if he so needed.

He didn't.

Opening his mouth in a slight gasp, Scorpius invited his father to deepen the kiss. Draco took his opportunity, slipping his tongue into his son's mouth, taking in the unique taste. At Scorpius' moan, Draco slid his hands up to his son's cheeks, holding him; bringing him closer.

When he felt Scorpius' arms circling his torso, his hands planted on his back, pulling him closer, Draco stood, bringing his son with him.

They stood, kissing and holding for an eternity, only breaking for air at the last possible moment.


End file.
